


A la Claire Fontaine

by blueangel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Student/Teacher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueangel/pseuds/blueangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She decides that it doesn’t matter how good looking her teacher is- piano sucks and she hates it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SecondStarOnTheLeft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondStarOnTheLeft/gifts).



> This fic is a gift to SecondStarOntheLeft who encouraged me to make this a full story. The title of this fic is taken from the title of a french folk song of the same name. Enjoy!

‘’ I just want you to be more well rounded, that’s all.’’ Her mother says and Sansa sighs.

‘’ But mom Jeyne and I were going to hang out-‘’

‘’ This is not negotiable Sansa.’’ Catelyn wipes her hands on the kitchen towel and sits down at the table taking Sansa’s hand. ‘’ Promise me you’ll go straight after school.’’ Sansa huffs and thinks that her mother has ruined just ruined the whole of her weekend plans for the foreseeable future.

‘’ Promise.’’

\-----------------------------

She kisses Joffrey goodbye, promising that that they’ll get together for dinner, and drives the ten blocks to Willas Tyrell’s house, She wishes more than anything right now to just be able to home, or go to the mall- anything but this.

She scrunches her nose as she reaches for the address that her mother had scribbled on a piece of paper for her. Surely this can’t be right.

The Tyrell’s were a respected family, old money, and although she had never met them she had certainly heard of them. And this house did reflect old money.

The quaint white house showed no signs of wealth, but instead seemed nestled amongst its neighbors- as if the house itself wanted to remain hidden. Sansa exited her car and walked up the steps hesitating before knocking on the door. She hears shuffling inside and steps back as the door opens.

Sansa had expected many things, but not this.

Honey colored eyes meet her own and she feels color rise in her cheeks as he smiles at her.

‘’ Can I help you?’’ He asks and out of nervous habit Sansa tucks her hair behind her ears- realizing too late that she has revealed more of her heated face.

‘’ Uh- I’m Sansa Stark- I’m here for piano lessons.’’  His eyes rake over as she rocks back on her heels.

‘’ You’re a lot older than I expected.’’ He inclines his head, ‘’ Come on in.’’ He moves aside and it then that Sansa notices he is leaning on a cane. Not wanting to be caught staring she flickers her eyes back to the house, noticing the plain walls and old worn furniture- it is completely ordinary. The only thing standing out is the vases of roses that seem scattered across house- leaving the house perfumed with their scent.

He leads her to a small room, a piano and bench taking almost the whole room, and gestures for her to sit down.

When she sits down the bench creaks, and not knowing what else to do she puts her hands in her lap.

‘’ Are you a beginner.’’ The bench creaks again as he sits next her and lays his cane against the side of the piano.

‘’ Uh...yeah.’’ Sansa winces and thinks about how her sister would make up all sort of barbed comments at her if she was here right now. He looks at her hands expectantly and she hurriedly places them on the piano.

  ‘’ Here’’ He takes her hands and places them, and Sansa feels her face heat up once again. ‘’ Better.’’ He smiles and Sansa smiles back before turning to face the piano, flexing her fingers, wanting get this over with as soon as possible.

\---------------------

The hour passes and by the end of it she wants the floor to swallow her whole. She can’t place her fingers right, can barely read music- she wonders why Mr. Tyrell even bothers with her.

She leaves his house with a music book in hand, ego deflated, and promising that she’ll practice at home.

When she is driving home she decides that it doesn’t matter how good looking her teacher is- piano sucks and she hates it.

\-----------------------

When she gets in the door she is greeted by Lady, who she scratches behind the ear affectionately before turning her attention to the other three who beg for her attention.

‘’Mum, I’m home. Dad?’’ Sansa tosses her keys on the table and goes to the kitchen where Arya sits, guitar in her lap, strumming quietly, while Rickon and Bran sit at the kitchen table doing their homework. ‘’ Where’s mum and dad?’’

Arya stops strumming and blows her bangs away from her face, ‘’ they went out with Robert and Cersei.’’

‘’ Has Joff called?’’ Arya rolls her eyes and puts her feet on the counter.

‘’ No. Your snob of a boyfriend hasn’t called.’’ Sansa bristles and snatches the guitar away from Arya’s hands as Arya flails. ‘’ Hey give that back!’’

‘’ Joff is not a snob.’’ Sansa hangs the guitar in the air- taking advantage of her height as Arya hops up and down trying to get to her precious guitar.

‘’ Give Needle back!’’

‘’ Say that Joff is not a slob.’’

Arya stops before huffing and crossing her arms, ‘’ Fine he’s not a snob,’’ Arya snatches her guitar back and smirks adding, ‘’ he’s just a mama’s boy.’’ Her sister ducks away from her and runs up the stairs.

‘‘At least my boyfriend doesn’t have blue hair.’’ Sansa grumbles under her breathe. She glances over at her brothers who have amused smiles on their faces. She ignores them and gets out the leftovers from the fridge.

‘’ Did they say when they would be back.’’ Bran shakes his head, Rickon already ignoring her.

For awhile Sansa stares at the T.V. - glancing every once and awhile at the Piano which has now been cleared of its cloth and vase of flowers. Finally, when she can no longer put it off and sits down on the bench, pulling the music book, and puts her fingers on the keys. Sansa doesn’t think she does it quite right, and she’s too proud to ask Arya for help, but she practices the exercises that Mr. Tyrell gave her until she’s too tired to continue.

\----------------------------

Day after day she drives to Mr. Tyrell’s house, and every day for an hour she sits on a bench and tries to concentrate as he sits next to her and gives her encouraging smiles. More often than not she gets distracted by the warmth of him next her, and has to remind herself that he is too old for her and that she is with Joffrey.

He reassures that she is making progress.

She doubts that.

Every night she eats and then sits down at her piano, not that she enjoys it or anything, but she is determined to get better and the fond smile on her parents faces keeps her practicing until her fingers ache.

\------------------------------

‘’Mr. Tyrell.’’ Sansa enters the house cautiously, knowing that she is early, and makes her way to the music room where a sweet melody is playing. She steps into the room quietly, content to watch her teacher’s long fingers grace over the keys and press gently. Sansa has never seen him play and it amazes her as her body moves with the notes- how he seems to get lost in the music.

Finally, she clears her throat.

He jumps and turns, flushed, as he finally realizes that she’s there.

‘’ I’m sorry I’m early-‘’ they are both embarrassed now, but he gestures for her to sit anyways.

‘’ No it’s fine.’’ He clears his throat and they start the lesson, but Sansa still notices that the flush stays on his cheeks the whole hour.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Slowly Sansa places her fingers on the keys, eyes flickering to the book- adjusting her hands before pressing on the first key, then the second. It all comes together until the notes begin to hang in the air.

She winces as her fingers press together and the two notes ‘clang’. She flexes her fingers and begins again.

Better.

‘’ That was very good.’’ Sansa whips around to see a young woman, a little older than her, staring at her with curious eyes.

‘’ Thank you.’’ Sansa gets up and holds out her hand, ‘’ Sansa Stark.’’

The woman takes her hand and with a blinding smile introduces herself, ‘’ Margaery Tyrell, Willas’s sister.’’ Sansa takes in her perfectly manicured nails and green business suit.

‘’ Yes, of course.’’ She takes her hand back and wishes more than anything to have Willas come back right now, where was he anyways?

As if answering her question Margaery tells her, ‘’ I’m afraid I’ve caught my brother unawares, he’s getting me a cup of tea.’’

‘’ Do you visit often?’’

‘’ When I can, but I prefer to stay at Highgarden.’’

‘’ Oh.’’ Sansa says because there is nothing really left to say. She had heard of Highgarden, the sprawling mansion while not as big as Winterfell, was still famous for its gardens.

‘’ Yes I prefer it unlike some people-‘’ Margaery slides her eyes over as Willas enters the room, a cup of tea in his hands and a tight smile on his face.

‘’ I have my reasons Marg.’’ He hands his sister the cup, ‘’ I see you two have made your introductions.’’

‘’ Yes,’’ Margaery flicks her eyes back and forth between the two of them, ‘’ your new student is quite the beauty isn’t she?’’ Sansa doesn’t say anything as brother and sister have a silent conversation.

Finally she clears her throat thankful that breaks the siblings haze as they turn their eyes to her, ‘’ I should go’’, she says slowly, ‘’ I was going to meet Joffrey for dinner anyways.’’ Sansa gathers her coat, ‘’ Tomorrow,’’ she says to Willas and gathering up any courage she has faces Margaery,’’ It was lovely meeting you.’’ Margaery gives her another smiles and Willas nods while Sansa is rushing out the door.

That was….strange she decides.

\---------------------------

Sansa stretches as there is a knock at the door, and momentarily stumbles as she reaches it.

Opening it she can’t help but raise her eyebrows,’’ Hello Mr. Baelish.’’ Petyr Baelish steps in the doorway before giving her a smile.

‘’ Hello Sansa, I was wondering of your father was home?’’

‘’ Yeah.’’ She leads him to her father’s study, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible.

‘’ Thank you.’’ He tells her, touching her hand briefly before entering her father’s study.

Sansa returns back to the living room, taking the popcorn back from her sister before plopping back onto the couch.

‘’ Who was that.’’ Arya asks her.

‘’ Mr. Baelish.’’ Sansa answers. Arya wrinkles her nose before pooping a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

‘’ Creepy fucker.’’

‘’ Arya!’’ Sansa admonishes her, even though she secretly agrees with her sister, but Petyr is her mother’s long time friend. They have to be polite.

‘’ What? If that pervert isn’t looking down you shirt he’s looking at your ass,’’ Arya holds up her hands in defense, ‘’ just saying.’’

Sansa rolls her eyes but she is glad when Petyr Baelish finally leaves.

\---------------------------

She clenches her fists and tries not to let anymore tears slip down her cheeks as Joffrey yells at her. Sansa had long ago stopped listening as he beats his fists against the steering wheel.

‘’ Are you listening!’’ He roars at her.

She straightens herself before saying pointedly, ‘’ No.’’ Joffrey jerks the wheel until they hit the curve of the sidewalk and jerks to a stop. Sansa fumbles through her purse, her hands fumbling for her key chain as Joffrey reaches for her.

When he is inches away she takes her pepper spray and puts it in front of his face warningly.

‘’ You wouldn’t.’’ He growls. She undoes her seatbelt before reaching back and opening the door.

‘’ I would.’’ She says trembling. Sansa steps onto the sidewalk before slamming the door shut. Without another word he speeds off- leaving her to walk home.

As she kicks her heels off, the pepper spray and her purse in another, she makes a note to herself to thank Arya for the pepper spray. It had been a last minute gift on her sister’s part, complete with a hastily tied bow, but it had proved useful just now.

Panic and beer have left her in a buzz, making her feel light headed. She shivers as the cool autumn air blows on her.

She wishes she had worn tights.

She wishes she hadn’t left her phone at home.

Cars blur past her, some honking, as she makes her way down the street.

Five blocks, she tells herself, it’s just five blocks.

She steels herself as a car pulls up behind her. Sansa takes out the pepper spray again, only to lower it as Willas climbs out of the car.

‘’ Do you need a ride?’’ She hesitates a moment before nodding and getting into his car.

Sansa admits that if it had been anyone else she might of declined, but this is Willas, and no matter how much she had secretly wished it, he had never made any ‘improper advances’. She self consciously tugs her skirt down as she tries to stare at the road ahead of her.

‘’ Do you want to talk about it?’’ He asks quietly.

‘’ No.’’

‘’ Do you want me to call the police?’’

‘’ Why would you do that?’’ She turns to face him as he continues to stare straight ahead.

He shrugs,’’ Joffrey Baratheon isn’t the nicest kid.’’

‘’ Do you know him?’’ Sansa tries to picture them in the same room together only to come up with a blank slate. Sometimes she forgets he’s a Tyrell.

‘’ I know _of_ him.’’ His fists clench on the wheel as she directs him to her house.

When they pull up to the house she is thankful that all the lights are out.

‘’ Thank you.’’ She says without meeting his eyes.

‘’Sansa.’’ He grabs her hand for a moment before letting go again. ‘’ Be more careful next time.’’

She already misses the warmth of his hand.

Sansa nods and quietly gets out of the car.

\-------------------------

She tip toes up the stairs only to walk into someone.

‘’ Arya.’’ She whispers. Her sister rubs her forehead before squinting.

‘’ You late.’’ Her sister smirks, ‘’ Was that your piano teacher I saw.’’ Arya wiggles her eyebrows.

‘’ He was just giving me a ride.’’ Sansa hisses, then she notices her sister’s state of dress.

Sansa grins, ‘’ Going somewhere.’’ Arya’s eyes narrow.

‘’ You didn’t see me, I didn’t see you.’’

‘’ Deal.’’

\---------------------------

‘’So you’re enjoying your lessons now?’’ Her mother asks her.

Sansa grins and nods, taking a bite of her cookie, the warm gooey chocolate chips already melting in her mouth.

‘’ Yeah Mr. Tyrell is a really good teacher.’’ Somewhere over her shoulder Arya snorts, and Sansa turns around and shoots her a warning look. Arya shrugs before continuing to fight with Bran over the remote.

‘’ That’s good. I’m glad.’’ Her mother hadn’t even looked up from the pie dough she was rolling. ‘’ Have you heard from Joffrey yet?’’

Sansa puts her cookie down, ‘’ Joffrey and I are on a break.’’ Her mother frowns.

‘’ I’m sorry.’’

Sansa shrugs, ‘’ There’s always more fish in the sea I suppose.’’ She jokes.

‘’ Older more experienced fish!’’ Arya calls out.

Sansa’s going to kill her.

Trying to act normal Sansa brushes it off as a private joke and steers the conversation to another topic.

Later, she tugs Arya aside.

‘’ Enough,’’ she tells her warningly,’’ or I’ll tell mom about that wolf tattoo that you have on your back.’’

‘’ It was just a joke-‘’ Arya starts, but Sansa cuts her off.

‘’ It could cost him all his students if you little joke gets out, and it’ll cost me my piano lessons, so don’t, ‘’ more quietly she says, ‘’ nothing’s happened and nothing’ going to happen. Are we clear?’’

‘’ Crystal.’’ Arya answers.  

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Umm sorry about the wait I blame my lack of update on my laziness to type and the fact that I'm working on a Merlin fic right now.

Her hands trace the carving on the headstone, R-O-B-B; her hands drop into her lap as she places the wooden carving on the gravestone.

‘’ Rickon made it for you.’’ She says softly. The tiny wooden wolf now stands proudly; head tipped back, eyes closed, howling to the moon that was not even upon them at the moment.

Even now, after three years, tears sting her eyes and her throat aches with a kind of a grief that she doesn’t think will ever go away.

Sansa remembers the exact moment when her mother had come walking into the kitchen; grief etched on her face, and told her Robb had been found murdered. She remembers feeling the lemon cake in her mouth rot and the tears streaming down her face as her mother cradled her.

  Everyone had their own ways of grieving, she supposes. Rickon had started on his tantrums; biting and scratching that they wouldn’t even consider trying to find another one when the last had ended up going to the hospital with a bloody hand. Bran had stopped speaking altogether and more often than not could have been found with Jojen and Meera Reed; an odd pair of siblings that even though they were several years apart in age, could always be seen together. Dad had isolated himself and devoted himself to trying to find his eldest son’s killer, mum had tried to push herself into their lives and gods only knew what she would do if they ever caught Robb’s killer. As for Arya…she had rebelled, Sansa pulled herself away from her family trying to maintain some kind of normalcy even though people looked at her differently, and no one had heard from Jon or Theon since the funeral. A fact, Sansa was sure, pleased her mother. So, each member had been responsible in piecing themselves back together and picking themselves back up; moving on as best as they could and trying their best to never speak of, but to remember, the blue eyed, Auburn haired man with the easy laugh.

She wipes the salty droplets away from her eyes and wipes the grass stains off of her skirt the best she can. Sansa prays that her family doesn’t ask where she’s been and hopes that the redness in her eyes will go away soon.

\----------------------------

Sansa knocks at her father’s study door with a steady hand but when she hears the called,’’ enter.’’ She falters before pushing open the heavy wooden door.

With a smile her father ushers her in, ‘’ Now what’s this all about?’’ Sansa notices that her father’s eyes have wrinkles in the corners and this hair is almost entirely gray now- it’s strange that only now she realizes how old her father truly is.

‘’ It’s nothing I just wanted to talk.’’ Sansa suddenly feels uncomfortable as silence descends upon them. Her father leans back in his chair looking at her curiously.

‘’ Sansa,’’ he starts and she looks him in the eye for the first time in a long time,’’ what’s wrong?’’ Sansa looks at her lap and bites the inside of her cheek.

‘’ It just seems like we haven’t talked in a long time.’’ Her father gets up and comes around, putting a hand on her shoulder.

‘’ I know,’’ he plants a soft kiss on her temple,’’ And I promise we’ll talk soon, but-‘’

‘’ I understand.’’ Sansa stands and with a small kiss on his cheek and a smile; she exits the room feeling a little more embarrassed then when she came in.

\---------------------------

Sansa drums her fingers on her desk and watches the clock, ignoring the heated stare at the back of her head. When the bell rings she grabs her books and her bags and rushes out- weaving in and out of the crowd of people she runs to her car and speeds off- all the while she is aware of the icy green eyes that follow her every move.

\-----------------

‘’Sansa!’’ Jeyne’s fingers snap in front of Sansa’s face. She startles out of her daydream as her best friend huffs. ‘’ We did not come here so you could just daydream.’’ Sansa leans back and looks at the crowded pub around her, careful not to attract any unwanted attention.

‘’ Sorry.’’ Jeyne looks at her with a raised eye brow and an amused smile.

‘’Really I don’t know what’s been with you lately. We never hang out together and now I find out you’ve broken it off with Joffrey.’’ Sansa wants to tell her everything, and it’s on the tip of her tongue, after all Jeyne is her best friend- has been since her first year of primary school when Sansa had offered her a half of her turkey sandwich and her juice box, but something holds her back.

‘’ It’s nothing. I’ve just been really busy lately and Joffrey,’’ she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, ‘’ we were just…not as meant to be as I thought we were.’’ Jeyne snorts in disbelief and takes a swig of her beer.

‘’ Yeah, well now that you’re done with Baratheon you can come to a party with me tomorrow night.’’

‘’ I can’t I’ve got-‘’

‘’Lessons. Yeah I know.’’ Jeyne rolls her eyes and stretches out. ‘’ You always do.’’ With a ‘thunk’, she places her beer down on the table and gets up. ‘’ At least think about it. You know you don’t want to leave me all by my lonesome with no one to keep me company but your sister.’’ Jeyne wrinkles her nose. ‘’ Have some fun Sansa.’’

‘’ I’ll think about it.’’ She says finally as Jeyne pays for the beer and Sansa is left to pick up her things and go home for the night- wondering when her life had changed so much.

\----------------

She steps aside as a man, khaki jacket slung over his shoulders, exits Mr. Tyrell’s house.

‘’ Hello.’’ She greets him. He’s pretty, she notices, in a manly sort of way- with the same colored eyes as Mr. Tyrell.

‘’ Loras Tyrell.’’ She shakes his hand.

‘’ Sansa Stark.’’

‘’ Oh. It’s nice to meet you.’’ There is a sparkle in his eye as he saunters off and goes about getting in his car and driving off.

With a shake of her head she walks into the house. Later she will pause to think about how over the months she has stopped knocking and continuously lets herself in.

Sansa does not see him as she walks to the music room. She shrugs, figuring he’d be back soon she takes her coat off and tosses it on the bench before sitting down.

Opening the book she takes note of the keys and places her hands and begins to play.

It doesn’t sound right. She scrutinizes the book again and moves her hands.

It still doesn’t sound right.

Sansa lets out a frustrated sigh and runs her hands through her hair.

‘’ Here’’ She closes her eyes for a brief moment as Willas, (because she has decided to give in and call him Willas, at least inside her head), takes her hands and places them on the keys with his; one on top of the other. ‘’ Now play.’’ He whispers. Willas takes his hands off of hers as she lets out a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding.

Sansa’s fingers stumble across the keys as she feels his chest pressed against her back and his breath fanning across her neck.

When it’s done her face is red with heat and she places her hands in her laps- clenching them together as something curls low in her belly. Nonetheless, she cranes her neck and looks up at him, ‘’ Better?’’

He smiles fondly at her, ‘’ Better.’’

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

When Sansa wakes one night it is pitch black and the white curtains blow from the breeze of her open window; cooling down her sweat soaked skin.

She pads across the room and shuts the window with a fierce tug that for a moment makes her worry that it might have cracked. When she sees that it hasn’t, Sansa breathes a sigh of relief before plopping down on the edge of the bed and laying her head in her hands, and wondering what she’s gotten herself into.

It was just- well she didn’t know how to describe it- except that it was all maddening.

He was all honey colored eyes and lean muscle, with long fingers that heated her skin when they touched her- innocently of course, always innocent, never what she wanted, and it was hard enough to have him in her mind during the day but now at night-

Sansa shoots up from her bed and pads downstairs to get a drink of water. She carefully makes her way down the hall, and avoids the first step of the stairs- it always squeaks, before she walks down the rest of them.

When she reaches the last step she hears whispering that makes her stop and shrink back.

‘’ I must tell Robert, Cat.’’ Her father’s voice comes closer and closer, and Sansa backs her up the stairs until she’s in the shadows. A moment later she sees her parent below her.

‘’ Not yet. Do you know that the Lannister’s would do to you if they knew that you know.’’ Their voices become quieter and quieter as they drift to her father’s study. She bites her lip as questions race through her mind; until finally she pushes herself up and pads back up the stairs- the carpet soft on her feet and the drink of water long forgotten.

\--------------------

‘’Sansa?’’ She startles awake and sits up to see Bran looking at her. Sansa rubs her eyes and yawns.

‘’ Nightmares?’’ Bran nods and Sansa scoots over; lifting her sheets. He climbs and snuggles to her side. He had been having nightmares for years, to the point that their mother had taken him to the nearest psychologist, but to no avail. Now at ten years old Bran was too old to crawl into his parent’s bed for comfort; Rickon moved too much in his sleep and Arya snored so it was left up to Sansa.

She wrapped her arms around her little brother, ‘’ what was it this time?’’

‘’ Lions.’’ Sansa tenses before relaxing and reminding herself it was only a dream. ‘’ They were so vicious…..and there was so much blood.’’ She squeezes her arms around him and tells him that they were only nightmares.

\----------------------

When their father comes home a week later and announces that Robert was found shot dead in his offices, everything seems to stop. It’s all over the news and more often than not Sansa has to turn the T.V. off when her father comes into the room.

The funeral is not any better.

Sansa has only been to two other funerals, Robb’s and Jon Arryn’s. She does not remember much of Mr. Arryn except for that one Christmas he gave her a charm bracelet that she knows is buried in her jewelry box somewhere, and she remembers even less of his funeral- except that perhaps that she had gotten in trouble from her mother because she had kept fidgeting until Robb had grabbed her hand and walked her around the cemetery. Sansa had only been six years old at the time and had not understood the true meaning of death.

She does not like to think about Robb’s funeral.

The media is left outside the church, but every once and awhile Sansa sees the flash of a camera. It’s like Robb all over again.

The church is quiet when they lay Robert Baratheon to rest except for the droning of the priest, who after awhile Sansa tunes out. She does not like funerals, but then who does?

Sansa held no great love for Robert Baratheon, but she is reminded how much her father did when he goes up to speak about his best friend and unshed tears shine in his eyes. It is enough for something to pierce her heart and tears to slither down her cheeks and on to her lap. It is not fair for her father to lose a son and a best friend. It’s too soon.

When her father finally sits back down she grabs his hand and lays her head on his shoulder. He smiles a little and kisses her forehead; squeezing her hand as she vows in her head to be a better daughter than she has been.

When it is all over Sansa hugs Myrcella and Tommen and offers them condolences for the loss of her father. Then she goes to Stannis who gives her a gruff handshake and then to Renly. The man has unshed tears in his eyes, unlike his brother, and Sansa gently shakes his hand.

‘’ I am sorry for your loss.’’ She says. Renly’s shoulders straighten and he clears his throat before giving her a tight smile.

‘’ Thank you Sansa.’’ The youngest Baratheon brother looks older than he has ever looked in Sansa’s eyes, and when Loras Tyrell suddenly shows up she gives them both a kind smile before walking back to her family, where they wait at the churches entrance. At least Renly Baratheon will have some comfort.

 She avoids Cersei and Joffrey the best she can. Sansa feels bad for it but she can’t help the feeling of dread that comes over when they are near. There aren’t even tears in their eyes when Robert is buried. Despite the disapproving look her mother gives her, Sansa decides to skip the reception and instead gets into her car. Sansa does not know where she is going, but she thinks that anywhere it better than with the Lannister’s and the Baratheon’s because suddenly it all makes sense and it makes the bile rise in her throat as she finally connects the dots.

\---------------------

It is only after the second knock that she realizes that she is still in her funeral clothes and that she has been recently crying; she must look like hell.

Willas opens the door and looks on surprise as she stutters out a greeting.

‘’ What are you doing here Sansa?’’ He’s concerned; she can hear it in his voice.

‘’ I-‘’ she falters for a second and looks down at her feet before reminding herself that she is a Stark and they do not shirk away from any situation- ever, ‘’ you said you knew about Joffrey- about the Lannister’s.’’ He does not answer her, only opens the door wider to let her in.  
Willas walks past her into the kitchen where he gets out to mugs and pours her a cup of tea, where she sits down on a stool at the counter. When she goes to grab the cup he grabs her hand in a comforting gesture and she has to stop herself from twining their fingers together.

‘’ What’s wrong Sansa?’’ He asks her quietly. Sansa can’t help but let out a bitter laugh at that statement. There is so much wrong with her life that she doesn’t know what to do- so she avoids the question.

‘’ What do you know about the Lannister’s?’’ He lets go of her hand and leans back on his cane.

‘’ I know that they own one of the most powerful cooperation’s in the world-.’’

‘’ Only after they bought out the Targaeryn’s and murdered them.’’ Sansa interjects.  

‘’ How did you-‘’ Sansa shrugs and waves for him to continue. He shakes his head, ‘’ you shouldn’t know that.’’

‘’ I’m not a child.’’ She protests. He freezes at that and leans more into his cane, before sighing.

 '' No you're not. But why are you asking me these questions? Why now?''

‘’ You know I’ve known for a long time that my father was involved in the murder of the Targaeryn’s. No one says anything- no one ever will, ‘’ she shrugs, ‘’ It’s just one of those things, and despite that my father- I think he’s still a good man, and so was my brother. I just think they are way in over their heads. I’m starting to think I’m way over mine. I-‘’ She shuts her mouth and bites her tongue before continuing, '' At Robert Baratheon's funeral today something occurred to me; about the things my brother said to me before he died-things my parents are saying,'' she pauses at looks down at her cup of tea; wondering if she can truly trust Willas Tyrell- because gods she wants to, but can she? Sansa looks up to see concerned eyes. There is no hint of malice or betrayal, only concern. 

It is then that she whispers it- that thing that had been niggling in the back of her mind, '' I think the Lannisters killed my brother.''

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short but really this just a filler chapter, because shit is going to go down in the next chapter I PROMISE


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally this THE chapter I have been waiting to write

_Robb’s breathe smells of alcohol and it’s not like him; not at all._

_Jon had dragged him in the house in the middle of the night, and the only reason Sansa had been up was because she couldn’t sleep._

_When they both come stumbling in the doorway, Robb leaning against Jon, tie undone and hair a mess, Sansa gets up from the couch and helps Jon haul her other brother to the couch covering him with a thread bare quilt. Sansa shakes her head as her brother’s head lolls to the side and he mumbles to himself._

_‘’ What got into him?’’ She whispers to Jon, aware that her parents are right upstairs and they would be more than a little angry if they found Robb passed out on the couch drunk- her mother more so at the sight of Jon._

_Her half-brother shrugs his shoulders, ‘’ He just told me he wanted to get a drink and then he-‘’ Jon waves his hand towards his brother who is half passed out on the couch._

_‘’ Well thanks for bringing him.’’ She shows him out the door before turning back to Robb._

_‘’ Sansa, Sansa, Sansa, ‘’ he mumbles to her, ‘’ you know what’s funny about the Lannister’s, they- they- they.’’ He lets out a gruff laugh as she ignores his ramblings and goes into the kitchen to get him a glass of water, but by the time she gets back he’s already passed out asleep. So she tucks him and leaves the glass of water on the coffee table beside the sofa._

_\-----------------_

She and Robb had never talked about that night; she had never asked and so it had been an unspoken agreement not to. Besides, she had started dating Joffrey after that.

Robb had died three months after that.

Sansa looked in her rearview mirror before pulling over and shutting off her car. It takes her a moment before her hands start to tremble and she puts her head on the steering wheel; taking deep shuddering breathes as her nails dig into the leather.

\-------------------

_‘’ Do you think it’s possible?’’ She asked Willas; trying to keep the tremor out of her voice._

_‘’ I think it’s entirely possible.’’ He met her gaze with a steady one of his own._

_‘’ But why?’’ She swallows- trying to get rid of the tightening in her throat as he looked at her with sympathy._

\--------------------

Sansa wipes at the tears that cloud her vision and takes a deep breath and remembers where she is. 

With a little effort she finds her phone and dials home. It is Bran who picks up.

‘’ Hello.’’ She can hear the T.V. in the background and voices ring in the background.

‘’ Hey tell mum I’m going to be late for dinner, okay?’’ There is a pause as Bran shouts something at Rickon.

‘’ Okay.’’ He says and the receiver clicks; leaving her ears echoing with the noises of family and home. Sansa shuts her off and is about to toss it back in her purse when she opens it again and dials Jeyne.

‘’ Hello?’’ The background noise is such that Sansa holds her phone away from her ear before putting it back an inch away.

‘’ Hey! What’s the address!’’ She feels silly for shouting in an empty car but she’s pretty sure it’s the only way Jeyne will ever be able to hear her. When Jeyne answers it’s a garbled mess, but she gets it.

Looking at her attire she quickly ditches the stockings and pulls up her skirt, before putting a random tank top that she had found in the back seat yesterday- a top of Jeyne’s that she had borrowed but never returned. When she looks in the mirror she sees red rimmed eyes and ruined mascara. She takes out tissues from her glove compartment and wipes of her face before reapplying some lip gloss. Then she’s perfect.

Sansa straightens herself and lets out one last sniffle before turning back onto the road and down the winding streets, glad that traffic isn’t so heavy. She does not want to think right now and the best thing for that, she thinks, is to get very drunk.

When she arrives there are already several dozen cars parked outside the house, the music is making her car vibrate and she can already see several couples making out on the front lawn. Sansa turns her car off and quickly gets out of her car, almost jogging into the house- eager to find Jeyne.

When she enters the doorway the smell of smoke and beer infiltrates her senses, and it’s crowded- more crowded than she had first thought. She maneuvers through the crowd, grabbing a cup of beer as she passes by and takes a drink of the bitter liquid. Sansa doesn’t see Jeyne though.

She downs the cup, and takes another.

She downs that one to. Usually she doesn’t drink this much, but more than anything she wants to be able not to think right now.

Not about her brother

Not about the Lannister’s

And certainly not about Willas _bloody_ Tyrell. Between her second and third cup she finds herself swinging her hips to the beat that seems to reverberate through the house in a steady hum, _‘boom, boom, doom, boom, doom.’_ She sways and spins, feeling eyes on her as she traipses across the floor.

‘’ Hey!’’ Sansa feels a tug on her shoulder and she turns to see Jeyne with red lips and a grin.

‘’ Hey, great party!’’ Jeyne pulls her into a less crowded part of the house- if that’s even possible- and gives her an ‘I told you so’, look.

Smoke and music swirl around them as people bump into them, ‘’ Hey who’s house is this!’’ She yells to Jeyne over the music.

‘’ Martell- something or other.’’ The name seems to register through the haze of her brain; making her stumble back into the wall. ‘’ Are you alright?’’ Jeyne touches her shoulder briefly before Sansa shrugs her off.

‘’ I think I should go.’’ She ignores Jeyne’s protests and stumbles out of the house, where the cold air hits her like a ton of bricks. Sansa shakes her head trying to clear it as she gets into her car.

When she checks the time it’s almost one ‘clock in the morning. What had she been thinking? Her parents were going to murder her, and there was no way she could hide the fact that she had been drinking and driving.

Sansa drives down the street, aware of her foggy head and lack of coordination as the lights swirl together and signs blur. She nearly has three close calls where she swerves and narrowly misses the cars around her.

By the time she gets home it’s nearly two o’clock and all she wants to do is crawl into bed- never mind getting yelled at or grounded.

The lights are off and the house is quiet when she enters it. She can hear the distant tick of a clock in the living room- an ancient thing that has never kept the right time, but that nobody bothers to fix.

_‘Boom, doom, boom,’_ her heart echoes in her ears as she notices that her father’s study door is cracked open- light illuminating the dark hall.

‘’Dad?’’ She whispers quietly, now all too aware of the dark that seems to close around her. Sansa suddenly feels a chill run down her spine as she pads quietly to the old oaken door, which seemed forever closed to her.

When she peeks in the room it is a disaster; the lamp is on the ground, books and papers are strewn, and glass seems to cover every inch of the oriental carpet that takes up her father’s office. Suddenly her mind seems clearer and she rushes into the room. And as glass crunches her feet and papers slip; she finally notices the red that peppers the desk, but she doesn’t want to believe it, _can’t_ believe it, until she sees the body for herself.

Then he’s there- her father; eyes closed with a blood stained on his chest. Sansa feels the scream well up in her, but all that comes out is some indiscernible noise; half choke and half screech. Tears blur eyes until everything is a mix of red and grey- blood and her father’s gray collared shirt.  

‘’No please- dad… please.’’ She touches his hand; cold. No, that wasn’t right, he had always been warm.

Suddenly Sansa stands and runs out of the study and up the stairs, ‘’ Mom! Mom!’’ She screams it until her throat is sore, all the while making her way to her parents’ bedroom.  

The room is dark – not a hint of panic or distress and with a trembling hand Sansa flicks the lights on. She muffles a sob as she sees the sheets laid out on the floor- bloody, one of them barely covering a mass with red hair.  She leans against the doorway, red, red, red, red, - red like her hair. Red like blood

Sansa doesn’t look back as she stumbles down the hall.

Rickon’s bed is empty, and Bran’s, and Arya’s. Sansa runs to her room and almost flicks the lights on. Then she feels the dark sticky liquid cover her hands.

‘’ No please.’’ Sansa doesn’t bother with the lights. Instead she drops to her knees and crawls to the two bodies that lay on the floor. She picks up Rickon and kisses his forehead, ‘’ No please, no. Please god no.’’ Both of them- both of her brothers are covered with red, and as she lies between them she wipes it off of Bran’s face.

‘’ There,’’ She says to Bran, ‘’ no more blood, no more nightmares. No more…no more.’’  

\---------------------

_‘’Sansa,’’ Willas says softly, ‘’ the Lannister’s- they don’t like……well there are things about them that are less than honorable, and they don’t like anyone getting in their way.’’_

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm...so sorry this took so long but I was going to go into a completely different direction with this story and so I scrapped that and now I'm going this direction...enjoy.

Music filtered through the room as Sansa takes orders from customers. The bar is a dingy place, but it helps her pay for the rent and that is enough. Mya inclines her head to the table next to her and Sansa sighs. The dark haired girl may be her best friend, but she was not a diligent worker, and yet it worked in Sansa’s favor. More tables meant more tips.

She drops the fish and chips to the couple in the booth: both occupants too busy with each other to notice Sansa.  She fights the urge to roll her eyes and goes to the next table where three men sit. Their heads are all close together as if they are in the middle of planning some great scheme, but the waving of hands and laughter tells her otherwise. 

‘’ What can I get you to drink.’’ The men glance at her briefly before muttering their orders, as if they were annoyed that she had interrupted them. Sansa walked off and rubbed her temples. This was just the beginning of her shift.

\---------------

She hears Mya shuffle next to her as she wipes the last of the tables down.

‘’ So, do you want to head to a party after you finish up?’’ As Sansa turns to the girl in front of her she feels so _old._ Her feet ache, her legs, and she has a headache coming on that is starting to feel like someone is pounding her head with a mallet.

‘’No, but thanks.’’ 

The other girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. ‘’ Honestly, do you have any fun anymore?’’ Sansa brushes off the sting of her words and shrugs her shoulders.

‘’ Guess not.’’ Mya purses her lips before her shoulders finally hunch and she walks to the entrance. ‘’ Have a good night then.’’ She spares Sansa one last worried glace before exiting the building and hailing a cab.

Sansa leans against one of the tables, wincing as a sharp corner pokes at her back, before stretching and getting her coat. She sighs at the new hole in the elbow, promising herself she would patch it up when she got home, and waves at Lem who is cleaning the counter.

‘’ Goodnight Lem.’’ She calls out, not even bothering to look at the bearded man.

‘’ ’Night Alayne.’’  Unconsciously she fingers her now brown locks and frowns. Even after two years it was strange to be called a different name and to wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and not see red locks of hair framing her face.

With quick steps she crosses the street and looks behind her for anyone following her, a paranoid habit she had picked up. Sansa hums to herself as she passes shops, everyone closing for the night, and Sansa has to remind herself how truly late it is.

It just makes her even more exhausted.

Despite herself she stops at the music shop window the lights hitting trumpets and violins- making the instruments glow in the evening light, and as stands peering in at the oak grand piano that sits in the middle of the front window ; out of the corner of her eyes she spots Tom as he waves to get her attention. She smiles and waves back as he gestures her to come in, and for a moment she is tempted to go in and play, but not tonight-she’s just too tired. So she shakes her head and exaggerates a yawn. Tom nods and mouths a, _‘Later,_ ’ to which Sansa gives a definite nod before walking on towards home.

Before long she enters her key into her apartment and enters the small, one room rental. She makes sure all the locks are in place before dropping her keys into the dish beside the door and hangs her coat, Sansa sighs as she finally kicks her shoes off and collapses on her bed. While she didn’t like working long shifts at the Crossroads, she had to- if she wanted to afford her rent and to have food.

After _it_ had happened, she had gotten nothing- her father apparently leaving everything to Robert Baratheon, and after that Cersei. Sure, her uncle Edmure had taken her in but…every time she had spoken to him she knew he was thinking of her mother: could see the anguish in his eyes every time he looked at her. Sansa wasn’t a fool. She had seen pictures of her mother when she was young, and it was like looking at her reflection. So much so Sansa had started to hate her own reflection, and so she had moved out. She gave up her dreams of university and moved into her little apartment and got a job, but not before having the courts change her name and dying her hair. Oh, she missed her hair: never knew how vain she was until she had looked at her murky brown looks in the bathroom mirror, but it was better this way. No one looked at her with pity when her name was mentioned, and she no longer cringed when she saw her reflection, and Sansa had not spoken to her family since then.

Not Uncle Edmure, Aunt Lysa, or Jon.

Oh poor Jon, who had gotten leave to attend _the_ funeral. He had tried to hold back his tears as he stood next to her, and for the first time in a long time Sansa had held his hand. Only when it was all over did she let him hold her while she had cried. It was the only contact she had, had with him in a long time, and yet they did not speak a word to each other the whole time. Partly it was because she knew that he was not good with words and because any words that could be said would be far too _painful._  

Now Sansa lets out a sob before setting her clock and letting herself curl up and drift to sleep. She knows that she shall dream of blood tonight: as she does every night, but for now she lets herself picture a room- warm and inviting, with a piano in the corner and a vase of roses on a small table, and she finds herself humming a tune from long ago. It is a soft thing and when she wakes in the morning she’ll think back and wonder why it sounded so sad when she had hummed it.

She thought it had sounded like a happier tune when Willas had played it.

\-------------------

Sansa works to closing, and again she just makes it to her bed before diving onto her bed and closing her eyes. She ignores the circles under her eyes, but Mya doesn’t.

‘’ It’s not healthy Alayne.’’ She proclaims and puts on a stern expression. ‘’ You need a day off.’’ Mya then told Lem who agreed with her, and no matter how much she protested Lem wouldn’t let her work another shift until she had taken a few days off.  

‘’ Go have fun Alayne. Go be young.’’ Sansa nods. She doesn’t tell him that work makes it easier: that the more she works the less she thinks about that night, and the more exhausted she is the less she’ll dream about it-but she doesn’t. Because she’s worked too long to build a new life for herself, maybe it’s not the best life, but it’s _hers_ , and she won’t let anything jeopardize it.

\---------------------

She walks down the street trying not to think of _red, red, red._ She is tucked into herself, hat tipped to hide her face.

She needs a distraction.

This time when she passes Tom’s shop she does not walk past but instead pushes open the door-smiling when the bell jingles a little. On instinct she inhales the musk of the shop- polish, and admires some of the new instruments.

‘’ Alayne.’’ Sansa turns and gives Tom a little smile.

‘’ Hello Tom. How’s business today?’’ The older man gives a shrug before going behind the counter and checking the register.

‘’ Not bad. A little slow this morning but hopefully it picks up in the afternoon. What about you, what are doing out on this lovely day?’’

Sansa mirrors his shrug before saying, ‘’ I have the day off.’’ Tom laughs outright when she says it.

‘’ It didn’t think you knew what that was.’’ She ignores the laughter and turns to the piano.

‘’ May I?’’

‘’ Of course.’’

Sansa goes and sits on the bench, fingering the vine carvings that are scattered at the top before positioning her hands and playing.

Truthfully, she had never wanted to look at a piano again after the funeral, and Uncle Edmure didn’t have a piano in his house even if she did. But then she had moved out and gotten her job, and day after day she had passed by Tom’s store- The Seven Strings Music Shop- and had the seen the piano day after day, until finally she couldn’t help herself and she had went into the store, and before she could stop herself she had sat down on the bench and started to play. She had been rusty- she hadn’t played in so long, but it had felt good- like stretching a muscle that had been in one place for a very long time.

Of course Tom had come out of the back room to see who had been playing and had asked her if she would be buying it, and when she had said that she could not afford it he had looked at her peculiarly and had proceeded to tell her that she may come and play it as long as it was in the shop. Sansa had been so happy she had not even protested.

So whenever she could she came in and played. Ignoring the people who sometimes stopped to watch her and the others who wandered into the music shop and appraised her as her hands hit the keys. She had often wondered why such a beautiful piano had never been sold, and secretly she thought Tom had told people it was just for display- just so she could continue playing.

While he might be the best of men, he wasn’t bad. She knew he had a couple of kids with different women, but he had never leered at her or made any kind of advance- and she could say that only about a few men she had met.

So, this was her life: piano and work.

The bell jingles, signaling another costumer and she does not even look up as footsteps near her, or when she briefly see’s shoes stop just a few feet from her.

‘’ Sansa.’’ Her fingers stumble on the keys before she yanks them back into her lap- clenching them- all the while trying to control her breathing. A warm hand lands on her shoulder and she shudders, ‘’ Sansa Stark?’’ Finally, when she has her breathing under control and she is sure she can form sentences, she looks up.

Her breath catches to see Willas Tyrell standing before her.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Even after two years he still looks the same: hair chestnut and eyes golden. She checks herself and sees that Tom is nowhere in sight and she lets out the breath she had been holding.

‘’ Mr. Tyrell?’’ Her voice is barely audible as he sits down next her, and the strangest sense of déjà vu hits her when he places his cane against the seat. ‘’ Mr. Tyrell,’’ she says again, ‘’ what are you doing here?’’ His eyes flicker of her face as if she had been dead these past years, and she is once again left with gnawing in her stomach that she had hoped had disappeared. Sansa wishes he would disappear. She has just gotten her life together, she had finally felt….well something other than unhappy. She didn’t need the complication of Willas Tyrell in her life. Suddenly she feels the need to get as far away as she can from him.

‘’ I have to go.’’ She is already up and a few feet from the door when she feels his him grab her wrist. ‘’ Let me go.’’ Her voice is dead calm, but she can feel herself shaking. Obediently, he lets go and steps back, an apologetic look on his face.

‘’ I’m sorry I just- can’t we just talk for a few minutes. I’ve thought about you- thought about what happened to you, and I’ve wondered if you were okay. So please, can we talk?’’ He is almost pleading now, and she has to look away just to compose herself.

‘’ I don’t think that’s a good idea.’’

‘’ Just have lunch with me, that’s all I’m asking.’’

‘’Alayne is everything alright?’’ Tom pokes his head from the back room, a concerned look on his face and a polish rag in his hand.

‘’ I’m fine Tom, just talking with a costumer.’’ He looks from her to Willas until he reluctantly nods.

‘’ Can I help you?’’ Tom asks Willas. For a moment the other man seems dazed by the conversation, but quickly composes himself and shakes his head.

‘’ No, thank you. I was just leaving.’’ He turns back to Sansa leans until their lips almost brush, and for a moment all that longing- all that want- hits her full force and she has to clench her fists to keep from moving just another inch more. ‘’ Please,’’ he whispers, ‘’ if you ever need anything,’’ he gently unclenches one of her fists and lays a piece of crumpled paper in it before leaving. Sansa doesn’t turn around until she hears the bell of the door ring again, and sees him walking down the street from the corner of her eye.

‘’ I think I should go.’’ She tells Tom. The shop owner just raises an eyebrow. Sansa turns to the door, but he speaks up even before her hand is on handle.

‘’ So who was that? An old flame?’’ She tenses before opening the door.

‘’ No, nothing like that.’’

\-------------------

The piece of paper sits on her dresser for two weeks. Twice she throws in the trash only to pick it up again and set carefully back next to her alarm clock. Not that she really needed the piece of paper anymore- Sansa had memorized the carefully etched numbers by heart. More than anything she wondered how he had found her. Was he looking for her?

More than once Mya commented on her distracted state asking, ‘’ so who’s the fellow? And when can I meet him?’’ Sansa always shrugged off her comments and ignored the pointed looks her friend would send her, and always at the end of the day she would return to her apartment and stare at the crumpled piece of paper until finally she calls him.

He picks up the phone after one ring. ‘’Hello.’’

‘’ Hi Willas it’s Sansa I was wondering….would you like to meet at Trident park?’’ There is a pause at the other end of the line as her last words rush out, her tongue tied and her face flushing even in the privacy of her apartment.

‘’ Of course.’’ His voice is calm and cool, ‘’ When?’’

‘’ Tomorrow at noon?’’

‘’ Next to the Green Fork fountain. Do you know it?’’

‘’ Yes, yes I do.’’ She hangs up and wipes her palms on her jeans as she wishes more than anything to go back in the past and do…..well she would have done things differently.  She would have spent much more time with her family- would have treated them better.

Perhaps- just perhaps- she would have kissed Willas Tyrell just once. Just to see how soft and gentle he would have been. Just to see how long he would have let her press her lips against his- let her run her fingers through his hair.

\-------------------------

As she sits on the park bench, the faint trickle of water behind her and the laughter of children in the distance she has to suppress the urge to let out a laugh. Her life has truly become ridiculous.

‘’Sansa.’’ She watches as Willas sits down next to her and holds out a cup of coffee to her. She takes it gratefully and sips the bitter liquid.

‘’Mr. Tyrell-‘’

‘You can call me Willas.’’ He interrupts. She opens her mouth once and then twice, suddenly annoyed at the amused look in his eyes.

‘’ Willas,’’ she starts again, ‘’ were you…how did you find me?’’ He smiles.

‘’ I didn’t. It was a just a lucky coincidence that I happened to be visiting Margaery in the city and passed the music shop. I recognized you even with the hair dye.’’ Sansa doesn’t believe him for a second. ‘’ How are you Sansa, truly?’’

‘’ Most days? Tired.’’ She tells him. Without meaning to she leans into him inhaling the spicy scent that seems to cling to him.

‘’ And the other days?’’ He asks softly.

‘’ Other days I just wish I could go back-do things differently.’’  

‘’ That’s not a life Sansa. You deserve more.’’ This time when their fingers brush, she allows his hand to lie on top of hers. It’s substance. Weight.

They do not look at each other and after a few minutes they are both relaxed: leaning back into the bench, shoulders brushing, lost in their own thoughts.

‘’ And how are you?’’ She asks quietly.

‘’I’m fine. Still teaching and trying to suppress the urge to duck and run from my family.’’ They both break out laughing and the weight of the conversation lifts for an instant.

‘’ Margaery must be doing well.’’

‘’ Margaery is Margaery. She is taking the city by storm.’’ Sansa recalls the intimidating, sly young woman that she had met and lets out another laugh.

‘’ I am not surprised.’’

Their chatter is idle, but it’s comfortable. They are two people- to strangers really- trying to piece each other together: they are trying to create a picture of their two very different lives. Both of them trying not dwell on the past, but always remembering.

Between coffee at the park and walking through the streets Sansa forgets to tell him that she isn’t Sansa anymore. She’s Alayne. But it’s just too good to hear her name again, and for first time in a very time in a long time she feels alive. Willas is sweet and gentle- and every time he touches her she can feel the want clawing at her. Sansa sees it in him to. Sees the way his eyes seem to darken when she bites her lip or accidently brushes her hand against his arm. She was never this bold with Joffrey. But she is not Sansa anymore, she reasons. She is Alayne, no matter how many times she says her name. Sansa died with her family.

So that night when they are outside his hotel room, she gathers him to her: run her hands through his soft hair and presses her lips against his. She feels him hesitate only for a second before he’s pushing against her, running his hands along her spine- bending her to him, and whispering sweet words and a forgotten name against her skin. He is so sweet, so gentle- and it is all so wrong.

This isn’t _love_. This is want-a way to curb the addiction to the impossible.

 And she knew this was going to play out one way or the other, ever since he picked up the phone, because there is no such thing as _coincidence_ or _chance_. There is only the cruelty of fate.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to update, please forgive me! Oh and this is from Willas's POV so enjoy!

He is not surprised to find Sansa gone. Willas did not see himself as an expert on Sansa Stark, but he could see the change in his former student. Besides the hair there was just something empty about her- as if she had been drained of life. As if she had just given up on it. So, no, he is not surprised to find that when he wakes up, his sister knocking on his hotel room door, that the other side of the bed is empty.

‘’One minute,’’ he calls, gathering his clothes he dresses and grabs his cane, because. When Willas opens the door his sister is tapping her foot, a pout on her lips. ‘’Margaery I thought we were going to meet for lunch it’s-‘’ he checks his watch. It’s noon. He closes his eyes, feeling pain and exhaustion mix; he would give anything to just go back to bed at that moment. He looks at his sister and knows that’s not going to possible.

‘’Give me ten minutes,’’ he tells her. Margaery smiles sweetly and turns towards the elevators, the sound of her heels still clicking, even on the carpeted floor.

\--------------------

‘’Long night,’’ Margaery asks, putting her napkin in her lap as their waiter sets there food down. Willas ignores her question as he bites into his steak, but he feels his sister’s eyes on him all the same.

‘’I thought grandmother would have taught you not to be nosey,’’ Willas says. He looks up and rolls his eyes as he takes in her knowing smirk.

‘’I’m not being nosey,’’ Margaery says demurely. ‘’I’m just curious.’’ He sits back and watches as Margaery continues with her soup; every action elegant and perfect. She has been spending far too much with grandmother, and though he loves his family, he finds his grandmother prickly, and he had hoped that with a little goading Margaery could have escaped their family- now she was just a pawn.

‘’So who was she?’’

‘’No one. And since when is this suitable conversation?’’ His sister’s laugh rings out clear and loud, drawing the attention of passersby.  

‘’I just want to see you happy that’s all,’’ she says before changing the subject. ‘’Are you coming to my engagement party tonight?’’

Willas cringes at the question. Margaery was his sister, but there was only so much of the Lannisters he could take, especially Joffrey.

‘’Margaery-‘’

‘’I know you don’t approve, but father says-‘’

‘’Margaery,’’ Willas says, putting down his napkin,’’ I stopped listening to father a long time ago, and with good reason. What does mother say?’’

His sister flushes at that. ‘’She lectured me, but Joffrey is not that bad Willas, really.’’  

Willas thinks about Sansa walking the streets barefoot, mascara running down her face, and the grateful look in her eyes as he offered her a ride. He knows he has to find her and-

Well he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after that. Apologize? It wouldn’t be a very sincere one though. He knows what he did was wrong. Wrong place and the wrong time; if things had been different…well things would have turned out differently. That doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done, but he’s going to make things right. Somehow.

‘’Willas are you alright?’’ Margaery asks worriedly.

He nods. ‘’There are better men than Joffrey Baratheon.’’ His sister doesn’t rebuke him. They sit in silence for the rest of lunch, before he kisses her cheek and tells her that he’ll see her tonight.

\------------------

Garlan is lucky. His younger brother had gotten out of his family’s business pretty early; had married a wonderful woman and now had two kids. When he was younger and impulsive, Willas had thought he had known better. Sure he could run a legitimate business, but it was the stuff on the side that had excited him. That fast life that had ended in a car crash and left him with a leg that only half worked, because somehow- where and when he isn’t sure of- he had stepped on Oberyn Martell’s toes, and that had resulted in a cut break line. He can hate the so called ‘Red Viper’, as much as he likes (and how he does hate him, even after all these years. Even after they had both made their peace), then again, it had certainly opened his eyes.

He knows that his mother had been relieved when he had withdrawn from the family and Garlan was always supportive, but the rest of the family- well it was complicated. It had been peaceful in the suburbs, teaching piano and rolling his eyes at the roses Margery sent him every month (he still kept them though), and the life had suited him. He blames Catelyn Stark for the chaos, no matter how rude it is to speak ill of the dead. Willas had known her from the few rare deals her husband and his father had done, but that had been it. He had even declined her offer to tutor her daughter at first but-

She had begged him, and a woman like Catelyn Stark was not one to beg, and so he had promised her he would keep her daughter _safe_ , but after she had died her brother had interfered and everything had gone to hell.  Edmure had wanted nothing to do with him- had wanted him to stay as far away from his niece as possible. Willas had backed away of course, but then the _idiot_ had let Sansa go on her own-

Sansa: beautiful and stubborn, who had wormed her way into his heart with a smile. He had kept his hands to himself; of course, no matter how much he had wanted her. He had no doubt that if he had done what he had wanted, and Ned Stark had caught wind of it-well he had wanted two working legs.

What had happened last night was a mistake; because the woman he had held in his arms last night was not truly Sansa Stark-more like a shadow of her, but he had seen little pieces of who she used to be: in the way she laughed and blushed, and how in the dim light he could see streaks of red in her hair, it let him hope. So he would find her and help her, not because he had made a promise, but because Sansa deserved a better life.

\--------------------

He downs a flute of champagne as he eyes the occupants in the room. Golden hair mixed with brunettes; Lannisters and Tyrells, all of them wealthy and all of them vying for either his grandmother’s or Cersei Lannister’s attentions. Despicable.

‘’Are you being cynical again?’’ His mother’s touch is gentle as she takes his arm; the familiar smell of vanilla and roses assaulting his nose. He leads them to a table in the back corner- away from Lannister eyes and Lannister ears- with his mother only smiling at his caution, she only knows too well the position they are in.

‘’How are you?’’ Willas asks, kissing her cheek, his mother’s gaze never leaving his face even as his eyes sweep across the room again.

‘’I’m fine, as always,’’ she puts a hand to his cheek as he meets her eyes. ‘’And you? How are you, truly?’’ His mother may look soft, but it took a spine of steel to be the daughter- in- law of Olenna Tyrell, and so even now he knows that he can’t keep anything from her.  

‘’Mother,’’ he says softly adjusting his cane so he can lead toward her,’’ you must promise to tell anyone, not even father.’’ He watches as her shoulders straighten and her lips tighten; as if preparing for the worst. ‘’I found Sansa Stark,’’ he murmurs, and all at once her eyes widen and she takes a quick glance at the Lannister’s that sit across the room from them.

‘’How did you find her?’’ She demands, her hands tightening. ‘’Who told you where she was?’’

Willas takes his mother’s hands, ‘’It was just a coincidence that I found her, I swear, but Mother you mustn’t tell anyone, if the Lannister’s find out-‘’

‘’I know, but Willas where is she now?’’ He swallows and looks down into his lap. ‘ _’Willas Tyrell_ , you lost her.’’

‘’Mother don’t make her sound like she’s a pet I lost on the street,’’ he says harshly.

His mother’s voice rises sharply, ‘’She won’t be much of anything if Cersei Lannister finds her, or Joffrey for that matter. You know that.’’

‘’I’ll make a few calls and-I’ll do whatever I can.’’

‘’That poor girl,’’ his mother says softly. ’’What the Lannister’s did-‘’ she swallows and he is reminded that underneath the steel, that despite what she has seen and done, his mother still has a heart. 

‘’I’ll find her, don’t worry. Worry about Margaery, she’s the one who’s marrying a monster. How could you let her do that mother? You know the rumors, you know what he is like.’’ She waves him off.

‘’Your grandmother holds more sway than me-Margaery is more her daughter than she ever was mine, you know that. Besides, she thinks that she has him wrapped around her little finger.’’ There is something in her expression, regret, he knows she and Margaery don’t agree on much, but he never knew how much they had distanced themselves from each other. 

‘’What do you think?’’ Willas asks worriedly.

‘’I think I’m more worried about Cersei and Petyr Baelish,’’ she inclines her head where Tywin converses with the former, and the other makes conversation with Margaery. ‘’Your father should have never made this deal, but your grandmother thinks she can handle it all. What happens where we’re all dead? Money won’t matter much then. 

Willas squeezes her hands. ‘’Don’t say that. We’ll all survive, we all always do. Growing strong,’’ he jokes.

His mother runs a hand through his hair- a comforting gesture from when he was a boy. ‘’No, you shall survive this: survive me. It was what you were always best at- no matter how bad things got-you always got back up and brushed yourself off.’’  

\------------------

He goes back to the music shop, hoping with some luck that he would find her there again. Sansa isn’t there though, and the store owner isn’t pleased to see him, but once he lets it slip that Alayne may be in trouble the man reluctantly admits that he doesn’t know where she lives but he knows where she works.

The bar he goes to is smoky and has probably seen better days, but he asks for a beer and sweeps his eyes across the room, almost looking for a spark of red hair before remembering that she had dyed it.

‘’Excuse me,’’ he signals a waitress and watches as she puts on a smile. ‘’I was hoping you’d help me find someone who works here. Alayne?’’ The smile slips off her face and she sets a hand on her hip.

‘’She’s not here.’’   

‘’I’m sorry to hear that,’’ he says politely, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. ‘’Perhaps you can return this to her for me.’’ He holds out a silver earring, the little piece of jewelry glinting in the dim light. The dark haired woman doesn’t even blink as he sets it in her hand. He smiles, ‘’Thank you.’’ Willas sets out money at the bar and walks out, watching from the corner of his eye as the woman goes to the back where another dark haired woman stands, this one taller, and drops it into her palm.

He waits for Sansa to get out of work, sits in his car and smothers the thought in his mind that he is getting close to stocking, because he has to do this for all the reasons he’s listed in his head, and maybe for a few more that he doesn’t let himself think- things he doesn’t want to admit.

When he sees her leave he turns on his car and waits a block before pulling up beside her.

‘’Sansa,’’ he says rolling down the window. She stops and her eyes flicker in surprise.

‘’I could call the police you know,’’ she says, her eyes eyeing the cars around them.

‘’I know, but we need to talk,’’ he reaches over and opens the door. ‘’Please, I promise we’ll just talk, nothing else.’’ Like that night he drove her home, there is hesitation in her eyes, and her hand tightens on the outside of the door before she slides into the passenger seat.

For a moment they both sit in silence before he turns to her, and swallows at the vulnerable look in her eyes and the way her hair falls into her face; he resists the urge to tuck it behind her ear.

‘’What do you want to talk about?’’ She mummers, a blush creeping up her cheeks; he wonders about the bold woman he was with just the other night and how she can act so timid now; how can this be the same woman?  

He breaks her gaze and looks out the window, ‘’I promised I would keep you safe, and I’m sorry I haven’t. I’m sorry for,’’ he clears his throat and spares her a glance, ‘’well-what happened the other night shouldn’t have happened. The point is that this is about your family, and the Lannister’s. You’re in a lot of a danger Sansa, but I can keep you safe. Let me keep you _safe_ ,’’ Willas pleads.  

‘’The Lannisters killed my brothers; my parents,’’ his hands tighten on the steering wheel; it is not a question, but a fact- one that she’s probably known for some time.

‘’Yes.’’

‘’And now you want me to trust your family?’’

‘’No Sansa,’’ he keeps his voice quiet as he starts the car. ‘’ I want you to trust me.’’  

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame my lack of update on my lack of inspiration and the fact that my keyboard keeps freezing, so I am sorry for the wait.

They stop at Sansa’s apartment, a dingy place that had probably once been homely a decade ago, but now the cracked walls and peeling paint showed the toll of time. Willas does not go in but waits for her as he hears drawers open and the ruffle of a suitcase. He rubs his forehead, already there is so much to consider, so much to plan. Olenna wouldn’t be proud to know how little he had thought ahead.

He startles as Sansa walks out of her apartment, suitcase in hand. Willas takes from her as she silently stuffs a bundle of postcards in her coat pocket. With a gentle hand he guides her down the apartment steps and back to his car.

If she is thinking of running she shows no signs of it. Since Sansa had agreed to come with him she had been quiet and calm-like he had asked not just asked her to destroy the life she had built for herself- had not just asked her to trust him though she had no reason to. 

The drive to his house is a quiet one, and after that he shows her into the house and it is all so awkward that by the end he wishes she would say something- wishes he could say something to comfort her.

‘’I hope you’re comfortable here,’’ Willas says as he shows her the guest room. It’s plain with cherry wood and white sheets, but he doesn’t think she’ll mind and if she does…well he doesn’t think she’ll say anything about it.

She drops her suitcase at the end of the bed and glances up at him, before taking the bundle of postcards and setting them on the dresser. Willas knows she is challenging him to ask, but he won’t take the bait-no matter how curious he may be, and he tells himself that he’ll ask her later.

‘’I’m tired.’’ She says suddenly, not meeting his eyes. Willas nods, taking the hint and shuts the door behind him.

* * *

 

He wakes in the morning to the smell of coffee and bacon, and he has to remind himself that Sansa is in his home. It is all too surreal.

 When Willas walks into the kitchen Sansa is nibbling on a piece of bacon with one hand and holding a mug in other, reading the morning paper. The scene makes him pause at the doorway, it is all so domestic and seemingly normal, and yet it _isn’t_ , and it certainly isn’t alright: Sansa Stark should not be in his home this early in the morning. She should be in college with her friends and be able to come home to her family when the holiday’s start. This is the last place she should be.

It makes Willas hate Joffrey Baratheon all the more.

‘’Good morning,’’ he says softly. Sansa doesn’t startle, as if she had known that he had been there the whole time. Perhaps she had.

‘’Good morning,’’ she echoes.

‘’Did you sleep well?’’

‘’I did.’’ It is all so polite it makes him wince; remembering a time when she had sat in that exact spot and told him about her fears- had confided him as if he were a friend, an equal.

‘’Sansa, I know you didn’t want this, but it’s only temporary-we just need to get you out of the country, and then you can start over. You’ll be free of the Lannister’s and you can go on with your life, I promise.’’ She gives him a little smile before putting the mug down and finishing off her bacon.

‘’So what do I do in the mean time? Hide out here? What about you other students, you know most of them will recognize me? What-‘’ her words had risen until they had caught in her throat and a tired look overcame her face, and yet he can see the unasked questions in her eyes, _why did I come here_ and _can I trust you?_ It would all come back to that, he thinks, as long as he had Tyrell as a last name.

The line _‘What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, ‘_ comes into his mind, it would be something Margaery would say just to mock him- god how he hated that play.

The throbbing in his leg and his pounding headache seem to beat as one as he rounds the counter to stand before Sansa. She is still looking at him skeptically, though she wasn’t as easy to read as she used to be, he could see that much.

‘’I promised your mother that I would protect you in case anything should happen,’’ he can see the anguish in her eyes as he mentions Catelyn Stark so he pushes on, for her sake and for his,’’ I don’t know why she asked _me_ , but she did. I keep my promises Sansa. You were right about the Lannister’s killing Robb and…your family, but please just give me a few days and I can make arrangements- have you out of the country. I may be estranged from my family, somewhat, but I do have that much influence.’’ Her face was still unreadable, but with a sigh she stands up from her stool and placed a lingering kiss on his cheek, a hand laying on the other, as he tried to hold himself steady against the edge of the counter, and for a moment he lets himself catalogue her: the softness of her lips, the sweetness that seemed to permeate from every inch of her skin, and the way her pulse picks up and her breath hitches as he brushes a few locks of hair from her shoulders. He lets himself get drunk on her presence, and imagines that she is the girl with the red hair that blushed when he teased her and who had, had the sweetest smile-

Then it is all gone when she pulls away.

 ‘’I’m more tired than I realized, I think I’m going to go lie back down.’’ It’s an abrupt change, but he doesn’t stop her as she brushes past him and disappears around the corner.

* * *

 

Willas hasn’t talked to Leyton Hightower in two years, or close to it, and so he realizes when the old man picks up the phone on the second ring.

‘’Willas my boy,’’ the voice on the phone greets him, and for a moment Willas pauses, feeling something tug in his heart at hearing his grandfather’s voice again. ‘’What can I do for you?’’  

‘’I need a favor.’’

‘’Anything boy you know that.’’

‘’I need a passport and a license within the next few days-‘’

‘’For you or for someone else?’’ Willas grips the phone just a little bit tighter as he takes a breath, straightening the facts in his mind; nothing that didn’t need to be said about this situation wouldn’t be said.

‘’Someone else, a woman,’’ he practically hears the gears turning in the old man’s head as the other end of the line goes silent. ‘’ I need them by Thursday,’’ he continues, unconsciously tapping his fingers on the handle of his cane in impatience.

‘’No can do,’’ the old man replies, ‘’ if you really want your mystery woman to get out of the country safely I’ll need at least a week.’’ Willas sighs. He could have asked Baelor or Humfrey, but Humfrey would want money and Baelor wasn’t subtle enough to not get the attention of the Lannisters, although asking his grandfather had a price of its own. People said a lot of things about Leyton Hightower, but no matter the difference of opinion everyone agreed that his greatest vice would be his nosiness.

‘’Fine, in a week then.’’

‘’Can I meet her?’’

‘’No.’’ Willas says sharply.

‘’Fine, but I’ll still need a picture. What’s her name?’’

He almost lets the name _Sansa Stark_ slip out, before he checks himself, ‘’Alayne Stone.’’

Willas hears the shuffling of papers as Leyton replies, ‘’Alayne Stone,’’ he echoes. ‘’You be careful boy, I don’t know what your mixed up in but…Be careful.’’

 ‘’I always am.’’ Willas hears his grandfather grumble something intelligible before hanging up the phone.  Well, it had all gone better than he expected. 

* * *

 

He starts to relax as the easy melody washes over him-it is an easy piece to play- one he knows by heart, and it always seems to make him forget. Inwardly he smiles, hearing his mother’s voice in his head, singing softly to him as he finishes the last key.

‘’That was very pretty,’’ Sansa sits next to him on the bench, tracing her fingers over the carved vines. ‘’I’ve heard you playing it before, the day I came early for lessons.’’ Her hands glide across the keys as if she is thinking of playing, only to drop into her lap, possessively grasping the stack of postcards that lay there.  

‘’What’s it called?’’ She asks curiously.

‘’A la Claire Fontaine,’’ Willas answers clearing his throat; this is twice that she’s caught him playing, not knowing how long she’s been watching. It never gets easier for him, playing in front of others; he is always liable to make a mistake- it’s just another reason why he never played professionally. ‘’My mother always used to sing it to me when I was a boy, to comfort me when I had horrible nightmares,’’ he muses. ‘’She would take me to her piano, this same one, and play me the melody until I fell asleep-no matter how long it took. She was the one who first taught me how to play.’’

‘’Do you remember the words?’’ She asks

Willas chuckles. ‘’Some, but I’m afraid I would butcher them. French is not my forte, much to my mother’s displeasure, she is half French you see, on her mother’s side and she insisted that all her children learn the language-if only to be able to speak to our grandmother, who didn’t know a lick of English. Loras and Margaery are fluent, but Garlan and I- we can stumble through it, but I’m more fluent in German and Garlan in Gaelic,’’ he stops suddenly embarrassed, ‘’and I’m rambling.’’

Sansa shakes her head. ‘’It’s nice,’’ she says softly, ’’you’re family…they sound wonderful.’’ He doesn’t contradict her, doesn’t tell her about the business behind his family business. He doesn’t tell her about the drugs and laundering money- it all sounds so cheesy, like it is all out of a bad movie, but he thinks she might already know; might have put all the pieces of the puzzles together herself.

Sansa might have once been naïve and as fragile as porcelain, before her family’s murder, but he doesn’t think she was ever stupid. And now she is like….a mystery- a mix of sweet and bitter with steel beneath it all. Sometimes he feels like he is talking to two people and it worries him, like at any moment she is prone to break in half.

‘’Willas,’’ Sansa brings him back to the present as she sets the bundle into his hands. He takes off the rubber band and flips through them, noting the same messy hand writing, but from all different countries: Spain, France, Germany, Italy….

‘’They’re from Arya.’’

‘’You’re sure?’’ He knows that the search for the younger Stark girl had been extensive but had come to nothing, so eventually everyone had just believed her dead.

Sansa nods, ‘’I recognize the hand writing.’’ Willas carefully places the rubber band back over them before handing them back to her.

‘’How long has this been going on?’’

‘’About a month after I left my uncle’s. I thought about showing them to the police…but I didn’t know if I could trust them.’’

‘’Do you want to find you sister?’’

She shrugs and taps her thumb over the top postcard, a nighttime view of the Eiffel Tower, ‘’I don’t think I can. I mean, she’s been all over the world and hasn’t been recognized. As long as she’s safe…well I’ll be alright.’’

‘’Maybe once we get you out of the country you can look for her,  or maybe she’ll find you, obviously she has someone looking out for you if she knew where to send those cards,’’ he suggests.

‘’I’d like that.’’ For the first time since he’d spoken to her, he detects a tone of longing in her voice.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter done months ago but I could never find the motivation to edit so that's why there was such a long wait. Oh, and THIS CHAPTER SWITCHES POV CHARACTERS just so you know.

His grandfather insists that they meet at _The Roseroad_ , and even if Willas distained the name, he distained the actual restaurant even more; because while his father and grandfather may nitpick and belittle each other they could agree that image was everything, and eating anywhere less than five stars was to profane the family name. 

Willas resists the urge to roll up the sleeves of his button down green shirt, as he is lead to his table. His cane brushes against white tablecloths as the sound of china clinking and the usual hum of chatter drones in the background, as he is lead to the terrace where his grandfather waits.

‘’Willas, my boy,’’ Leyton Hightower greets him with none of the gentleness that his usual family does, nearly picking Willas up in his gruff embrace. Even at his old age, Leyton was as strong as men were half his age and yet with his bone thin frame and silver beard, looked like the wind could pick him, and carry him off at any moment. ‘’Go on sit, sit down.’’ The old man waves his hands as Willas pulls out a chair and carefully leans his cane against it as he sits.

‘’So,’’ Leyton says expectantly, ’’How have you been?’’

‘’The same.’’

‘’And your mother?’’

Willas scoffs. ‘’Fine. You would know that if you spoke to her.’’ His grandfather waves his words away as the waiter takes their orders and the menus are taken away. His grandfather was infamous for disdaining his son in law, even going so far as to deliver a speech at Alerie’ wedding that sounded more like a eulogy than a congratulations speech.

‘’It’s not my fault. Your mother married a fool, and look at where that has gotten her. Honestly, getting in bed with the Lannisters, those heathens, they are more likely to stab you in the back than to shake your hand. Looked what happened to Ned Stark-the utter fool.’’

It takes a fool to know a fool, Willas almost blurts, but he squashes the words down in favor of a wry smile.

‘’Careful, he is my father,’’ Willas reprimands.

‘’And I thank every god there is that you are more like your mother. You are a Hightower, through and through- not a Tyrell.’’ He swears sometimes that the old man is either selectively choosing what words come from Willas’s mouth, or plain deaf.

Still, he takes in the words with a sort of weariness. He is a man bound by old blood and business- bound; chained, and shackled to his family. God they will be the death of him. 

‘’I thought we were here for business,’’ Willas changes the subject. ‘’Not to gossip.’’

His grandfather lets out a choked out laugh. ‘’Oh, you have no love for your family do you boy. It’s all business now, huh? You know I remember a time when you and your brother were a part of this family.’’

‘’And look at where that got me,’’ Willas says tapping his leg.

The old man’s lips quirk, ‘’It’s not our fault you had your head up your ass.’’ The words are quick and precise-meant to sting and rile him up. He doesn’t take the bait. After all, how many times has he heard the same thing from Garlan? ‘’You got, _you,_ to where you are. Don’t blame us.’’ His grandfather doesn’t say anything else as their waiter arrives with their food and they both go silent as they eat.

While his grandfather is distracted Willas takes in the view from the Terrace.

The city is beautiful in the afternoon light, with tall buildings gleaming- like a businessman’s utopia. Yet it is all an illusion, and in the afternoon light, he can almost see the shadows of corruption, marring the tiny specks that were the people on the streets.

‘’The papers,’’ Willas says later, when the plates are taken away. ’’Can I have them now?’’

‘’Of course.’’ Leyton hands him a manila envelope, and without hesitating Willas carefully lays it across his lap.

‘’You’re not even going to check that everything’s in order?’’

‘’I trust you.’’ Willas says honestly, and he does. He trusts his grandfather to do this much for him.

* * *

 

Petyr Baelish is by no means a stupid man. On the contrary, he thinks of himself above average intelligence, he had to be. He had grown up and went to school by the grace of others, those who later turned their nose up at him. He had made himself climb the social ladder and kiss every ass that he had to, to be able to get where he is now.

It was worth it though. He was so close to getting what he wanted, all he had to do was move a few pieces on the board and it would all fall in place, and would it be all so easy, just a few whispers in a few ears- just a little push. People were just so malleable. It was pathetic.

Petyr sat contentedly at his desk; papers and files set out before him, and two photographs, both blurry and from a distance, but both of the young woman’s face were unmistakable. Sansa Stark, so much like her mother-so beautiful- sat next to the oldest Tyrell boy. That was a problem, but not one that couldn’t easily be solved.  

Arya Stark on the other hand… 

Petyr had never meant for her to live, never mind under Targaeryn protection. While he knew Sansa would take some pushing and prodding in the right direction, he knew he could at least manipulate her for his goals.

_The oldest Stark, the_ only _Stark, a beacon of hope- a rising star, with her guardian behind her each and every step of the way._

That wouldn’t happen with Arya Stark, she was too stubborn and too willful, - a bad combination, and now that she was under Targaryen protection she was almost untouchable, but then again soon or later, both Daenerys and Aegon would have to be taken care.

Therefore, he would just have to kill two birds with one stone.

He turned his gaze back to Sansa. Oh, she looked so much like her mother. Something like guilt dropped in his stomach as he thought about Catelyn Stark. He had never meant for her to be harmed they weren’t supposed to hurt her. It was never supposed to be….

He cleared his throat, closed the folder, and got up from his desk; straightening himself, he thought that it was time to have a talk with Lysa again.

* * *

 

When Willas returns home Sansa is pacing in the living room an anxious look on her face,

‘’Here,’’ he hands her the envelope, ‘’it’s everything you need. Plus a number to an offshore account, five hundred thousand, that should get you to wherever you need to go-‘’

Sansa wraps her arms around him, ’’Thank you, for everything.’’ She smiles and opens the envelope rifling through before her shoulders hunched as she sat down next to him on the couch.

‘’So when do want to go? Where?’’ He asks quietly.

‘’As soon as possible,’’ Sansa admits. ‘’And I don’t care where. Just- anywhere away from here’’ She gets a faraway look in her eyes and he wonders where she imagines herself. Far away probably, somewhere warm maybe, way from all this rain, sleet, and snow.

‘’I understand.’’

Willas gets up from the couch intent on booking a plane ticket when he feels a hand on his arm. Sansa looks up at him with pleading eyes, ‘’could you sit with me and watch a movie? It’s been so long-‘’ He lets out a breath and sits back down as Sansa puts her head on his shoulder.

‘’I wish things could have been different,’’ she mummers into his shoulder. He looks down to see a blush rise in her cheeks, but he doesn’t comment on it, too relieved to see some of the old Sansa back.

‘’Me too,’’ she cuddles closer to him and if he feels tears hit his neck, he doesn’t comment.  

* * *

 

Sansa grips her bag, tight with nervousness and excitement, as the people walk purposely around them, the faint cries of a child and the wheels of suitcases in the background.

‘’Thank you, again. You’ve done so much for me, more than anymore…thank you’’ she repeats nervously. It reminds him of when he first opened the door and saw her smile up at him, blushing from the tips of her ears down to her neck.

‘’It’s nothing, really.’’ She gives him one last smile before reaching up and pressing her lips against his. He doesn’t think at that moment, just reacts, as he buries his hands in her hair.

She tastes like vanilla and coffee and smells like cinnamon, and isn’t that just like her, to be so sweet.

They are both breathing heavily when he pulls away, but even more than that, they are getting more than a few looks from passersby’s. He clears his throat and steps back, looking at the ground.

‘’You should go or you’ll miss your flight.’’ He doesn’t look up at her when she steps back, or when she says a soft goodbye. Willas turns his back when she’s far enough away and starts the walk back to his car.

Sansa and he could have had been something great,  they would have taken care of each other, built a life together – one with a picket white fence and two or three children, and he doesn’t doubt that she’ll be the one _what if,_ that will plague him all his life.


End file.
